The Assassin
by The Psychotic Serial Killer
Summary: She filled her days with searches of her prison friends. The only people she had ever called friends, but one of them is about to betray her. Bane/OC or Joker/OC. Right now, it's a surprise. Told in three parts: Earth, Heaven, and Hell.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I saw The Dark Knight Rises three times and decided I just had to write a fanfiction about Bane 'cause, you know, he's badass. Reviews are quite lovely even though this is just a prologue and might be short, but please be so kind as to tell me what you think :) Forgive me if Bane ever appears out of character; he shouldn't be because he cried in the last parts of the movie and he has shown care and love for a young girl. So, loving one a few others won't be so out-of-character I hope. And I know you'll be like "It isn't that hard to just sit down for two hours to watch Batman Begins", but I'm super lazy, so if Jonathon Crane appears out of character...which I know for sure he will...please don't flame!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC. Enjoy!**

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**"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it." -J.K. Rowling**

**Prologue**

Having been in the business for many, many excruciating years, she knew that if you fell, you either had to pick yourself back up or be left behind. You either followed the boss's rules or be killed. You either have the heart to kill or you never get into the business in the first place. That was her problem. She could easily murder a million souls-important figures of society or not-and leave without a single regret or pain of guilt to clog her mind. In fact, she was great at it.

That was the very reason she was known to Gotham City as the _Assassin._

Her first kill landed her in a foreign prison that was built deep into the ground. The prisoners referred it to The Pit of Hell. It wasn't any ordinary prison that was found in cities in America or even small towns. It wasn't anything like the prisons in many other countries, either. The prison was torture. Not of the body, but of the spirit and soul, for there was always a sliver of hope every time one looked up to see the sun peer down. A thought would always cross the mind: _Soon, I will be free once more._

But escape was close to impossible. Although, there were two whom managed to climb halfway up the jagged brick walls and jump to the ledge that officially marked success to freedom. One had been herself and the other a child; that very child had been one of her close friends. She was young, yes, but very good company much the same to her as well as a man, who had a loving care for the young girl as well. In a way, the three of them were a sort of trio. They were inseparable and spent most of their time together in the prison. She believed that it was the young girl and the man who kept her alive in that prison. Without them, she knew she would be nothing. Or maybe, she would have felt the bloodlust she normally felt and find herself slaughtering any prisoner who dared to piss her off.

Talia and Bane. The two names she would never forget. The two people whom made her forget she was a monster just like the people who threw her into the pit at just fifteen years old. The two loved ones whom made her think she was just as capable of caring and loving as the next person. The two friends who loved her whether she knew she was lovable or not.

The one man whom she fell in love with made her feel things she never thought she was capable of feeling for someone who was not of blood relation.

However, that was then and now it was a curious journey as to how she landed with this peculiar group of men in front of her. It appeared everyone in the room was just as good as friends as the next group of people who talked, drank, cracked jokes and played silly games of cards. But she knew that when it came down to when she needed help, she would not get it. She would have to fend for herself; pick herself back up all on her own. And that was okay. She found her happiness and security in other forms, so at that point, it was no matter.

Every day after she had gotten out of that hellhole, she was constantly thinking about them. However, the more she thought of them, the more their faces became nothing but a blur with no picture, no object to remind her that she was loved and maybe...hopefully, being missed.

She clenched her jaw at how deep her thoughts were going. She balled up her hand into a fist, trying to shake the memories off and focus on the goons in front of her. There were so many of them that she sometimes found herself looking at each face hoping that one of them was Talia.

However, she was mostly hoping she would find Bane.

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**A/N: ****I really appreciate those who have read this!**


	2. Part One: Earth: The Joker and His Goons

**A/N: I HAVE EDITED AND EXTENDED THIS CHAPTER.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for what you don't recognize.**

**Reviews are nice and if I'm getting a character wrong (other than the obvious Jonathon Crane), please let me know!**

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**Part One: Earth**

**The Joker and His Goons**

"So, when will this plan be put into action, Assassin?" Sid asked, passing out the deck of cards to the five people who were willing to play poker. The rest of the goons, including her, just sat around the kitchen watching, drinking, chatting and waiting.

She played with the unopened beer bottle on the counter she was seated at. Not being a drinker, she enjoyed her sane state when many of the other men were drunk. Sometimes it wasn't as fun when they tried hitting on her. It was understandble, though. She was, in fact, the only female to have ever stepped into their warehouse where they waited for their boss to breakout of the Arkham Asylum. Assassin knew _they_ were too weak and stupid to actually form a plan for their boss. It was a wonder why he chose these men and why he kept them around when they were of no use when he was strapped in a straightjacket in a bland, white room.

"Do you really miss your little clown that much?" she smirked. She turned around to face him, leaning her elbows on the counter, "You know, I would make a much better leader. What happened in that bank robbery? Oh, yes, he took out over half of you without lifting a finger. He made you all turn your backs on one another and yet, you still trust him. Who's to say he won't shoot you?" She glanced at the rest of them, her smirk never faltering, "Or you? But...I suppose I can bring the little trickster out to play again. But it is going to cost you goons quite a bit."

Henry, another one of the goons-though much smaller and whose only skill is great with a sniper rifle-sighed and set his cards facedown, "The Joker burned all the money we took from the robbery. We have nothing to give you."

She shook her head in irritation, "I don't want money. What the hell do you think I'd use it for? I'm not one for designer purses and diamond earrings. What I want is access to Dr. Pavel's files and I know that the Joker was able to retreive them. I want a _garauntee _that I will have a hold of them as soon as I free your little boss."

"Are you looking for someone in particular?" Sid raised a brow in genuine curiosity.

"That isn't any of your business. Do I have your word as well as the Joker's?"

"No one can garauntee anything that has to do with the Joker and his unpredictable lunacy. One is stupid and mad for even thinking he can garauntee shit when it comes to the Joker."

"Nice to know how naive you idiots really are to work for him," she hissed, feeling slightly desparate at not being able to get a hold of the files.

"Tell you what. I don't see why the boss wouldn't let you in on the files when you help him escape from Arkham, so why don't you just set him loose and see?" Sid said with a lowered voice, but she wasn't that stupid.

She opened a drawer, taking out the Joker's precious pocketknife. She recalled one of the goons telling her about it. He wasn't the most quiet of the bunch and he couldn't keep a secret to save his life, but if it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have anything to bribe the lunatic with. Then again, how precious could a small knife be?

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" another, much bigger goon said. His voice was deep and he wore a ratty wife-beater that revealed every rippling muscle. His skin was very dark. So dark, it nearly matched his black dread-locks. There was no wondering why any infamous criminal would keep him around.

"I'm going to free your guys' lunatic. I don't need any of your help by the way. You guys can sit back and continue to gamble like the helpless imbeciles you are." No one ever bothered to counter her insults, for they were used to hearing it. And not just from her either. The fact that she made it known in to them that she was The Assassin also helped them to just let her do whatever the hell she wished. Like the Joker, it was better to just follow what she says rather than argue because it was likely that it would get you killed.

The Assassin walked bruptly out of the warehouse and took out a pre-payed cell phone from her leather jacket. She dialed a number and waited for the ringing to stop and a voice to answer.

"Hello?"

She smiled on the outside, grateful that she got a hold of him so soon. It was rare he answered to old friends. Especially ones who didn't bother to contact him in so long. "It's me, A. I need a favor, Jonathan."

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"You owe me big time, A. These days, getting an ID for a psychiatrist at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane is close to impossible," Jonathan Crane smiled, handing her a white lab coat, blue scrubs, sneakers and an ID with her smiling face printed in the top, left-hand corner. She swiftly took them from him and placed a wad of fifty-dollar bills on the desk he was sitting at. His apartment was dirty and previously owned by a single mother he killed long ago. It was very convenient that no one missed her. Although, she hadn't the slightest idea where the child went. The kid was alive, no doubt, because Jon wasn't one to kill children, she knew.

Jonathan flipped through the wad of bills and shook his head, giving her a sort of smirk, "I wasn't talking about money, my _Assassin._" He emphasized the last word in a mocking way, and then stood up to stroke back a strand of her fiery-red hair.

She rolled her eyes at the man with striking ice-blue eyes and sleak black hair, starting towards, "Only in your dreams, Dr. Crane. Oh, by the way, I heard the batman murdered Harvey Dent. I do hope what I hear is true."

"I very much doubt the Batman is capable of killing anyone like Dent without great reason. You should know that. After all, weren't you the one spending two years with him; tricking him into falling in love with you just so you could sneak into Wayne Mannor to steal his valuables?"

"I don't have time to reminisce with you, Jon. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to." She started towards the door.

As she walked out, she heard him laugh, "Don't tell me you're going to speak to the mad Joker. I must say, I would have thought you would work with better criminals rather than that looney."

"Look who's talking," she mumbled bitterly before finding a bathroom and changing into the attire. It was a convenience that no one-with exceptions of the Joker's goons and a few other villains she ran into-knew what the infamous Assassin looked like. It was even better that Gotham's Police thought her to be a lean, well-built man rather than the curvy woman she reallly was. The victims she murdered were of no importance to Gotham, but what made them so special was how she killed them and in what numbers.

The police found it fascinating that a single person had taken on a group of eight drug-sellers without anyone hearing a single sound. It had been just over seventy-six hours before anyone found the blood bath in one of the Narrows' back alley. Not a single one of the sellers was able to fire a shot to stop the Assassin. The killer was quick, using an ordinary kitchen knife that could have been picked up from any random household. The more and more similar scenes of massacres the Gotham Police found, the more they began to worry that the Assassin would move into the prettier sides of Gotham and begin murdering the important people.

It angered her that most of Gotham's so-called "protectors of the city" thought there were people who were more important to save than others, when in reality, most of the citizens in the Narrows deserved to live their lives while the people on the richer side are better off being in a body case.

Five minutes of being chauffered in a yellow taxi, and she was standing in front of Arkham Asylum's plexiglass doors. At three in the morning a few doctors looked ready to head home; eyes bloodshot from the large amounts of coffee they probably drank.

The Assassin's posture was confident and composed, not wanting to give anyone any reason to find her suspicious.

A slender woman with a grin plastered on her face began walking towards her direction as she walked into the main entrance. Her uniform was much the same as the one Assassin had slipped on earlier. "Ah," the woman said, her grin failing to drop, "You must be the new doctor...Isabella. Come this way, I will show you the Joker's room." She took the time to glance at the homemade nametag at the breast of her labcoat. She then turned on her heel and led her down a narrow hallway filled with many rooms and cells holding criminals labeled as 'insane'. "I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Nice to meet you! I hear you're assessing our most...unwanted patient here. When I heard that there was to be a new doctor for him, I thought it'd be someone much...uh, much..."

She raised a brow at the child-like doctor. It was clear that this woman was a lot more immature and insecure than what she expected at first sight. Her emotions were clear as day, making it all too easy to be aware of who she was as well as how she is. This type wasn't the type Assassin liked to hang around.

"Did you think I was going to be an old male, Dr. Quinzel?" she asked in a rather harsh tone that sent fear piercing through Harleen. It made the doctor shiver and frown.

"N-no... It's just...nevermind. Here we are and here is the key to his room. Be sure to keep it securly hidden somewhere on you. He may be wearing a straightjacket, but you never know what could happen. Good luck," she gave one last flashy smile before handing over the room key and leaving.

A rugged sigh of irritation escaped her just as she placed the key into the keyhole. The room was borded by a strong, steel door. If the padlocks didn't tell one that the patient behind the door was dangerous, then the huge, strong door itself would. A small opening compartment was built in the middle of the door ment to send meals, papers and any other necessities the patient might need without having to walk directly into the room. It was curious how anyone would retrieve anything they were given if they were wearing a straightjacket, however. His room was located at the very end of the hallway, quite clear from anyone else's.

She pushed the door wide open, stepped in, then shut it once more.

"Well, well, well. _What _do we have here? Hellooo, beautiful. I suppose I really did scare the last doctor away. That's too bad. Please, uh...please tell me why they sent you so _early _in the morning. You could have ruined my, uh, _beauty sleep-ah_," a voice said, making a popping sound with the last 'p'. The Joker sat on a small cot, leaning his back against the wall. The room was just as white and boring as everything else in that asylum, so the Joker's bright red-painted smile and faded green hair stood out well. The scars on his cheeks were only prominant because of the red greasepaint covering them.

"But I didn't." Taking out the key to his room, she held it up to his face. "Tell me, Joker, how would you like to get out of Gotham's Asylum for the Criminally Insane?" She threw the fake manilla folder of blank papers on the desk and pulled the chair out to sit directly in front of him.

A smirk began to form on his face. When it did, wrinkles rippled his scars and across his cheek. She began to wonder what he looked like without all the paint covering his skin. "Something tells me you aren't working under Jeremiah Arkham. So, tell just who _are _you working for, hmmmm?" He turned his head every-so slightly and raised his brows, pressing his lips together.

"I'm working for my own benefit, if you must know," she stated, "If you give me garaunteed access to Dr. Pavel's files, I will get you out of Arkham and back to your lazy, helpless goons."

"What makes you think I need your help?"

She smirked at him, leaning back against the chair and crossing her legs at the knees, "Well, if you don't need my help, then enlighten me on what you have planned because I don't seem to believe anything that comes from that insane head of yours will work."

"Aren't you just _full _of sweet compliments-ah." He shifted on the cot, his arms looking uncomfortably restrained.

There was silence. Neither said a word. As she sat there, staring at him, she considered leaving, but waiting seemed a better idea in hopes he would reconsider the offer.

"You know..." he mumbled, his face with a smirk on once again, "Giving me that key isn't going to do much-ah. You see, they tend to keep the locks on the _outside _of the room rather than on the inside were _patients have easy accessability to pick at it. _So, giving me that key doesn't help my side of the deal."

"I'm not an idiot. I wasn't going to give you the key. I was going to get you out of the straightjacket."

"Ah, so you have the key for _this," _he stated trying to live his arms from his body almost animatly.

"Actually I don't." She stood up from her chair and pulled out the Joker's pocketknife. "I'm going to cut through it, but I still need your word that you will give me those files."

"Those files are very useless if you ask me," he drawled, "I mean, they don't even have the Batman on file, so how much good does it do?"

As she was about to cut through the thick fabric of the straightjacket, she stopped. She raised her eyes back to his, looking confused, "Who else is missing from the files?"

"Oh, I'm sure _millions _are missing, but who knows? I didn't waste my time searching every name on this planet to see who was missing and who was no_t-ah. _I assure you, though, that I will grant you access to Pavel's _pathetic _files, but I can't garauntee you will find who you are looking for. _Please do tell me who you are looking for, dollface._ Is it a family member?" His smile grew wider as he searched her face for any sign of emotion other than the impassiveness she gave thus far. "Is it a long-lost friend?" She frowned. "Or is i_t _a lover?" She stood up straight and folded the knife back into its casing.

"If you are going to waste my time, I will happily leave you to your _beauty sleep_," she hissed.

"Ah, yes, _a lover. _How..._romanti**c**." _The Joker began to laugh hysterically, his voice ringing through the almost-empty, cell-like room.

The Assassin gritted her teeth, but refrained from showing any other signs of anger, "Not a lover, but a friend. So, are you going to accept the offer or not?"

"Alright, _alright-ah. _You cut me loose and hand over my knife and I will _show _you how much time you've _wasted_ on a file that was carelessly put together by the most power-driven doctor ever having stepped _foot-ah_ in Gotham."

Ignoring his last comment, she slid the knife down the side of the straightjacket and yanked it roughly off of the Joker. He now wore a purple jacket over his green vest; much more Joker-like than the straight jacket. She took a step back, waiting for the Joker to announce the next move. He gave her a stern look and gestured towards the knife. When she handed it over, everything seemed blurry. The next thing she knew, Assassin was being pinned up against the wall with the Joker's forearm cutting off her airway. Her face, though appearing at the mercy of the Joker, was solemn.

"Would you look. At. This. It seems our little _dollface _isn't scared of death-ah," he smirked, pushing the tip of his knife into the softness of her cheek. "Tell me, dollface, _who are you looking for?_" He licked his red lips, taking away some of the greasepaint. When she didn't answer, he bit the inside of one of his scars and repeated the question, "I'll say i_t again. _Who. _Are_. You. Looking. _For_?" It was more low and menacing this time, but her face remained impassive. On the inside, she was doing what the Joker's new doctor should have been doing: assessing.

Finally coming up with her escape plan, she kneed him in the diaphram, grabbed his hand and took away the knife, pushing him into the desk. The Joker fell over with a grunt before picking himself up, laughing hysterically despite the bruises that were forming quickly on his lean body. His eyes turned from a sort of calm bliss to a furious irritation at being thrown around.

"Tha**t**...that was not very smart, beautiful. But I must say," he chuckled, stepping slowly towards her. She held the knife up, ready to stab him with it if need be. "You are qui_te _the fighter for a small doll. You don't _happen _to be the _Assassin _every police in Gotham is _obsessing_ over, are you? It makes perfect sense. No one would ever suspect a pretty girl like you to be so..._messy_. You did a real number on those prostitutes last week. Bra-_vo. _Are we going to get an encore, dollface?"

With every step he took in front, she took a step back, not wanting to finish him off just yet, "I want those files."

He put his hands up above his head animately, "Alrigh_t. _I'll give you those files, but I want another..._favor._"

Narrowing her eyes, she waited for him to continue.

"You help me destroy the mob-every last one of them-and if you can't find whoever you're looking for in the files, then _I _will help you _myself-ah. _But only after the mob scum are wiped **out**. What do you say, _dollface_? I could _really _use a skillfull assassin like _you. _My goons, as you said, are, uh..._lazy_."

The Assassin lowered the knife cautiously and straightened her posture. She handed the Joker his precious weapon, "You have yourself a deal, Joker."

He smirked at his new 'helper' and freedom. "Well, dollface, _you _have the key to all insane patients here, so uh, _why _don't you use it to create..._chaos _in one of Gotham's largest facilities for crazy criminals." He giggled at the thought as he happily strutted his way out of the room.

Assassin would have just waltzed out high-and-mighty with the Joker at her side or somehow make them think-being a doctor in disguise-that she was merely taking him out for an early morning strole, but chaos was a much easier notion. Placing the key into the first door, she unlocked it. The Joker opened it wide and pushed Assassin to the next door, wanting to set them all free without any introductions or explanations. Various mentally unstable criminals stepped cautiously out of their room. When they found themselves being set free by the notorious Joker, a smile overcame their faces. Just as the last patient was set free, the crowd began to shout and clap. Finally, they made their way towards the doors as the guards opened to see what all the racket was. When the two wardens saw the patients had been set free. They radioed in the emergency and began ordering everyone to back down and get into their rooms.

She chuckled to herself. _As if they would listen when they are outnumbering you_, she thought. As expected, the patients trampled over the two wardens and ran out of the asylum with the Joker and Assassin mixed in. When they reached the outdoors, the Joker found her and snatched her wrist.

"So, dollface, seeing that you had _my _knife, I assume you know where our, uh, little _hideout _is. Yes? Well, just so you know, _any funny business and you will not like the consequences I will have planned for you. _Is that clear?" He was serious, but she was not at all afraid of the 'consequences' she might face. Besides, it wasn't as if she had anyone to tell of his hideout that would care to know. She never spoke to anyone unless she was about to slice their throat.

Slipping the labcoat off, she turned to him, "We can't take a taxi, because that would be downright stupid. Unless you would like to take the time with a timid taxi-driver? I assume you wouldn't. Are we going on foot, then?"

He scoffed, "Don't be so _silly._" He pulled out a cellphone from his jacket and pressed only two buttons, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. "Ah, yes, _Sid. _Be a sweetheart and bring the van around to uh, fifty-third street, will you?" He didn't wait for his goon to answer as he shut his phone, sliding it back into his pocket. "Let's go, sweetheart, we can't miss our ride!"

Without a word, she followed him onto the next street down and slid into a vacant alleyway to wait for Sid. It was a wait only slightly longer than it should have been, taking ten minutes rather than a quick six. As they waited, the Joker seemed to be amused at first, but when Sid wasn't here soon enough, he grew impatient and angered. He then began mumbling to himself. She was sure he was cursing Sid and his slowness, but she didn't bother to know nor did she even care to know. Her patience was great, so she was just fine waiting as long as it took. Knowing she would have the files soon enough made her more relaxed than she had ever been. Although, remembering what the Joker said about millions being left out of the files made her worry.

Just as the Joker was about to blow a gasket, a white van rolled up nonchalantly on the curb of the street. From the inside, one of the goons slid the door open. Joker hopped right in, waiting for Assassin to follow suit. Getting into a van full of armed men, including the Joker, didn't seem like the brightest idea anyone had ever come up with, but then again, she wasn't an ordinary woman. She wasn't getting in to be murdered, she wasn't getting in to try and kill every one of the men inside, and she certainly wasn't getting in to be one of the Joker's hostages. No, she was getting in because he wanted her help..._needed _her help and she was willing to oblige for something she needed in return. Maybe it was a brilliant idea for her to get in after all. If she didn't... That would be the unbrilliant idea that could get her the wrong kind of enemy.

"Boys, meet our new, uh, _helper,_" the Joker smirked, gesturing to Assassin as she got in gracefully, seating herself next to the window and beside the Joker.

One of the goons sighed with a mixture of irritation and worry, "What could she possibly help you with, boss? She's a psycho! Just wait, she will kill you in your sleep."

The Joker frowned, "I don't _sleep-ah_."

Assassin smirked at how scared she made some of his goons. Of course, they had nothing to worry about. She had no intention of killing any of them as long as they steered clear of her. The Joker, though murdering many innocents, attempting to blow up two full boats of inmates and citizens and blowing up Rachel Dawes, was still a somewhat respectable criminal. She didn't find any reason to kill him off.

"Exactly why am I going back to the warehouse? It's still early and surely your goons would want to _finally _turn themselves in after all the drinking and gambling."

The Joker growled, "So _that's _what my, uh, _minions _have been doing while I was locked up in the..._loony bin._"

The goons looked a bit worried as the words came out of the Joker's scarred mouth. In one fluid motion, he grabbed one of the goons' guns and shot all the men behind Sid, who jerked the steering wheel from jumping ten feet in the air. It was clear as she looked into the review mirror that he had to force himself to look at the road ahead rather than the bloodbath behind him.

Joker climbed over the passenger seat and sat down animatly, looking over at Sid. "Tell me, _Sid_...what have _you _been doing while I was away."

Sid was in a cold-sweat, finding it hard to focus on not running the van into a streetlight. He hesitated at first, but tried to sound as confident as his mouth would allow him to, "We were forming a plan, boss. It didn't seem like the right time, so we just decided to...play games until-"

"Until someone _else-ah _came along to do the, uh, _dirty work_?" he questioned menacingly.

"N-no. Not at all, boss. We just-" Once more he was cut off by the Joker, but not by him speaking. The Joker had sent four bullets through his head simultaneously before he could get out another word. His high-pitched laugh echoed through the vacant streets as he pushed Sid's body out the driver's door. He seated himself to take control of the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror to see Assassin's impassive face.

The Joker bit the inside of his cheek and shifted in the driver's seat. Her lack of reaction to most anything made him tick, and that didn't help his already-terrible-driving-skills. He was deffinitely not on the list of Gotham's Greatest Drivers. If anything, he wouldn't even be considered to be on such a list. The swirving and speeding was enough to make Assassin slightly nauseaous.

"My sincere _apologies, _dollface," he cackled. "So, tell me _exactly _who you want to find on _Pavel's patheti**c **_li_st_-ah?"

She huffed, "I already told you. A couple of friends."

"Oh, now it's more than just _one _person? Hmm...that might cost you more, _dollface_."

"I'm already helping you kill off the mob, you are making this difficult and quite unfair, _Joker,_" she hissed, furrowing her brows.

He laughed hysterically, "_Life _isn't fair, sweetheart. Alrigh_t_, tell me the names and...uh, I'll call it..._even_."

"Talia al Ghul and Bane."

"No last name for this, uh, _Bane_? What happened to _friends_? Or did he not trust you enough to give his last name freely, h_mmm_?" He laughed hysterically once more as if he had cracked some kind of joke; although, Assassin wasn't even the slightest bit amused.

"He hasn't a last name," she growled.

His laugh became louder, "You _know_, dollface-ah...it's going to be a very, _very _long and _tee-dee-ous **task **_to find your _friend _if he has **no. Last. _Name-ah_**."

She shrugged indifferently, "I have all the time in the world. Besides, you will owe me. I will get the mob business finished faster if you wish. In fact, how about we pay them a visit now? I would really like to look into those files of Dr. Pavel's as soon as possible. If it's going to take that much time, we might as well not waste it, isn't that right?"

He frowned, "_I _give the orders, not _you._"

She smirked at knowing he didn't like losing the position of the upperhand in the situation, "Don't worry, _clownface_, it was just a suggestion."

"Cute-ah." The Joker laughed, pulling into the old warehouse that sat just off the water. Many crates, large cardboard boxes and run-down cars were placed in front of the warehouse, making it look less abandoned than the Joker would like to have people think. The place was essentially a junkyard for people's trash and it irritated him. Just last week, someone had dropped off a box of old children's toys and a beat-up chevy that had no gas, therefore, no use to him. If they were going to throw something away, he thought, they could at least throw something _useful _away. He chuckled to himself.

Assassin looked at him and raised a brow, but he didn't give any explanation of why he was laughing to himself.

"Welcome to your new, uh..._home. _For the time being, of course," he gestured to the rickety, old building.

"Like hell I'm staying here. I have my own place and not only is it clean, but it doesn't have you in it. Goodbye, Joker, I suppose I can stop by for a visit later this evening."

"I don't think _so_, dollface-ah. You see, I like to..._kee**p **my eye on my, _uh, **helpers**. So, you will be staying _here_."

She had never come into a situation where she would be arguing with the Joker. In most cases, she knew she could win if she stood her ground; however, she had never come face-to-face with the crazy lunatic and he was certainly not like anyone she had ever interacted with. It appeared to her doubtful then that she would win any sort of argument, so she accepted the fact she would spend the morning there.

"Don't worry, dollface. _I don't bite." _

She rolled her eyes, making her way into the warehouse without the Joker taking lead. There were still at least twenty goons occupying the main loby in the warehouse. She supposed she could label it as the 'living-room', but it felt odd considering she can't imagine the Joker living in an actual house. In fact, she can hardly imagine him taking any residence considering how little she really knew about him. That was probably a good thing for the time being.

As the Joker walked in, he threw the gun aside and took out his precious knife, flipping it open. "It looks like the, uh, _party _is over. Don't you think, _boys-ah_?"

At the sound of the Joker's crazy voice, they all scrambled from their seats-drunk or sleeping or not-and tried to stand up straight without much success due to the toxic alchohol. Some of their eyes were filled with fear, while others were smart enough to hide it and remain composed.

He walked along the line of men, beginning to explain what was to happen next, "Now, I have _already _killed five of you idiots, so I will take no more today. _Aren't. We. Lucky! _But I will keep a _very _close, uh...eye on you all and one slip and..._BAM!" _He laughed hysterically after he saw one of his men jump a few feet in his spot. "Our little _assassin-friend _here is looking for a Bane and...uh...Talia al Ghul and it would be much appreciated if you..._idiots _would gladly help our friend out. She is, after all, helping _us. _Aren't you, dollface?" He looked over at the Assassin, but she just gave him a smirk. Accepting that as a yes, he carried on. "So, if _any _of you know _anything..._uh, anything at all...speak now or _forever hold your peace-ah."_

It wasn't expected that any of the goons standing before her would know anything about her two friends. However, there was a boy who looked no older than eighteen that spoke rather hesitantly, but he spoke nonetheless, "You mean...you mean Bane, the ex-member of the League of Shadows?"


	3. Part One: Earth: Batman

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for what you don't recognize. This is the last disclaimer. You all know what I own and what I don't. If any questions just ask. There is no profit in this.**

**A/N: Finally! Bane appears...well, maybe not so much, but be prepared for the next chapter! :3**

**Please forgive me for any timeline confusion. It was fairly strenuous to follow how many weeks, months, and/or years that went by in The Dark Knight Rises for various events that I plan on having in here, so I will make up most of it. Again, sorry for any age or time confusion.**

* * *

**Part One: Earth**

**Batman**

"Ra's al Ghul, Talia's father, founded The League of Shadows. Do you know of Talia as well?" Any hint of anger or any sign of a protective barrier was gone. The Assassin's eyes held a glistening desperation she did not care to hide at the moment. There was news of her friends whom she had yet to see for twelve years.

"I don't know a Talia or a Ra's, but I know Bane and he is not the kind of guy you want to be working for... Well, if you are willing to sacrifice your life for him, that is. He has this strange way of knowing who is for him and who isn't. He always gets the men who are more than willing to die before they ever speak a word of any of his plans or hideouts or anything that is remotely related to him. I have yet to see a girl besides Miss Tate work for him. I don't think he would let you, to be quite honest. He seems to only like one girl and one girl only: that fuckin' rich Tate-girl." It was as if the subject of Bane and Miss Tate had struck a sensitive nerve in his skin. The boy's brows were dangerously furrowed; his eyes shining like glass.

The Assassin didn't care, however. She simply pressed the subject further, "And where is this hideout or this place that he is intent on keeping secret?"

He took a gulp and the hesitance washed over the anger, "I-I don't think I should tell you..."

The Joker growled and grabbed the boy's shirt, pushing his face into the ground. "You _will _tell her...unless your loyalties still lie with this...uh, _Bane _character. Who are you working for _really_?"

He choked out; drooling on the floor for his right cheek and jaw was tightly secured on the concrete flooring. "You, boss. I'm with you, I swear! B-Bane is somewhere underground, i-in the sewers. Last time I was with him, h-he was almost directly under Wayne Enterprises."

With satisfaction, Joker released the boy who stood up immediately, wiping his mouth of saliva.

There were so many sewers in Gotham connected to one another. It was an endless maze of tunnels with overwhelming stenches that intruded one's nose, refusing to leave. She had tried to live there, making it her hideout; however, it was impossible to tolerate the environment it gave. How anyone could do it, even Bane, the fiercest yet most gentle man she had ever known, she wasn't sure. Despite the questionability, she was more focused as to how, of all the places in this sickly, cold world, Bane had ended up in Gotham right where she was-for lack of a better word-living. Somewhere beneath her feet, her friend resided.

The Assassin began walking out the door, not caring about her end of the deal or what time of the day it was. She could complete her side once she confirmed what the teen had said was true, and then carry out the deal. She had waited too long for whereabouts and now that she was aware, there didn't appear to be any more time to waste.

However, the Joker was quick to the draw. He scrambled to place himself in between her and the door, a gun pointed in the temple of her head. "Where do you think you're going, _beautiful_?"

She cocked her right brow, "I didn't think you would need to be told, Joker. I figured you were smart enough to know exactly where I'm going. Don't get your purple panties in a twist; I'll be back. Besides, I don't look good in scrubs."

He smirked and backed up, tilting his head to the side to check her up and down, "I don't know... The scrubs aren't _that _bad, dollface. They really show off your womanly curves," he cackled, throwing back his head in utter amusement. Although, Assassin was definitely not amused, but rather irritated.

A few goons from behind gave chuckles, but when one of them gave a full-blown burst of laughter, the Joker immediately stopped laughing and walked over to the perpetrator.

"What _precisely _do you find so funny, _Joseph-ah_?" Once again, the bone-chilling, menacingly eerie tone rang through the fairly vacant lobby of the warehouse.

The Assassin cleared her throat; whether it was to save the goon's ass or to hurry up with the argument of her leave, it could really go either way. "I really must go. I left my clothes with a friend who might not be so trusted with such things. So, if you don't mind, I would like to leave in peace. And don't worry, clownface," she smirked, "I will be back later to keep up my end of the deal. After all, I am a woman of my word." With that, she walked out of the door without anyone stopping her again.

Very few citizens of Gotham were out this early in the morning. Only the drunk, druggies, and murderers were out. Of course, there were exceptions a lot of the time, and surely, Batman was sitting on some roof, looking out in the city to make sure no innocent was in need of urgent help. For the most part, the streets were empty. At least, on the prettier side of Gotham. It was always the Narrows that one had to be cautious in the dead of darkness when only the dim stars and clouded moon held light for the city below it. Policemen were rarely to be seen at night, thinking that people weren't stupid enough to wonder the streets alone. Even Assassin was aware of the stupidity she now held as she crossed the short bridge into the more gothic side of the city. However, she thought it worth it. At that moment, at least.

It was now nearing four-thirty in the morning and her eyes grew heavy. She may have been able to go through a day or two without any sleep, but it was now over fifty hours since she had last rested her head.

Suddenly, someone whistled not too far to her right. She peered in that direction to see a man and three more behind him emerge from an alleyway. The lead man had a buzz-cut, barely showing any of his light-brown hair. He stood approximately five foot eight inches. Not extremely tall for a man, but very tall compared to her five-foot-flat height.

The other three were darker than the lead. One had raven-black hair that went past his shoulder blade. He wore all black including leather gloves that matched his biker jacket. A second had a similar hair-cut to the lead, but his hair was clearly a curly black and he seemed to be more laid back in his outfits wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. The last made Assassin want to fall to the ground in fits of giggles like the Joker tended to do whenever a victim attempted to cause him pain physically. He was short. A lot shorter than the Assassin herself. The little guy didn't look anymore than four and a half feet, if even that. He was chubby as well, having meaty hands, strong jaw, and full cheeks.

"Well, if it isn't Little Miss Assassin. How long has it been? I'd say at least two years, what do you say?" the lead said.

It took a moment for her to register exactly who he was. She recalled confronting him exactly twenty-six months ago when she had first met the goons. They were in real deep shit with the man walking towards her casually. The goons were close to having their heads ripped off their shoulders, but to their luck, Assassin had come to the rescue, leaving a broke and pissed off druggie behind.

"Kane," she smiled sourly, "What a pleasant surprise. Yes, I do believe it's been over two years since we first met. Quite frankly, I was hoping it'd also be our last."

He grinned evilly, "Why's that? Were you scared that I would kill you for setting those idiots loose without paying back their dues? Well, if that's what you thought, you are not far off. I wasn't so happy that you intervened in my conversation with ole Sid-y. How is he by the way? I still haven't got my seven-thousand dollars."

"You really expected any of them to give you your money with their broke asses? Especially when the Joker was in jail? You're dumber than I originally gave you credit for. Pity. Got to run. I have a friend waiting and he isn't a very patient fellow." She tried walking away, but of course, just like in the stupid movies and drama shows people somehow enjoyed watching, he would not have her leave.

Kane took hold of her right bicep, gripping it hard enough to give her a hand-shaped bruise in a few hours' time. Her left hand slowly reached a knife she kept beneath the strip of her underwear. When she slipped it out, she sliced the side of his face, leaving a scar that went from his hair-line, across his eye and lips and down to his chin. Blood seeped through the split skin, staining his it. When he cried out in pain and fell to the ground, she darted in the direction of Jonathan's apartment. She could hear Kane's groupies running after her and they were gaining ground fast. It wasn't any surprise. She may run more often than most people, but the length of her legs could only stride so far.

She looked around her as she sprinted down the empty streets for anything that might be of use to her. There wasn't any way that the houses or apartment buildings would be unlocked at this ungodly hour. Alleys were merely dead-ends; traps that lead to inevitable death. Throwing trashcans or empty boxes or barrels wouldn't slow down the men much and seemed like a pathetic attempt at trying to stop them. Nothing at all came to mind except to continue to run at an increasing speed. She wondered how long she could really last at a sprint with adrenaline zipping through her veins.

It seemed like centuries passed, and her calves began to burn. Looking behind her, she saw that they were slowing down as well, trying to catch their breath.

Assassin slowed down as well, seeing they were a good ways behind her. Sadly, all hope comes to an end when they began to run towards her, this time with a much quicker pace than before. She wanted to run, she really did, but her legs shot a searing pain with even a small step, but she carried on anyway.

Just as the men-excluding the midget-man-were closing in on her, a dark figure leaped off a rooftop and landed perfectly on his feet between them and the fleeing woman. She immediately stopped running just as the groupies did.

"Why are you chasing this girl?" the crusader asked in a husky, low voice. _The Batman._

Chills ran down her spine when he spoke. A sickly and bubbling feeling began to broil in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to groan at the feeling, but decided that would probably be interpreted the wrong way.

"Looks like the Little Batman has got himself a new girlfriend after the Joker blew up his old one," the man with long black hair chuckled sinisterly. The Batman did not take too kind to his words, but he restrained from any violence for the time being.

The man who looked like a smaller Kane laughed along, "I think this girl is much too different from the last girly. Did you feel you needed a change? Or is she just an easy lay?"

The provoking was stupid as well as dangerous on their part. Not only were they pissing him off, but they were pissing her off and an angry woman with a rather sharp knife was not one to be provoked in any way. However, there were always lessons to be learned with guys like Kane and his groupies. They never knew when or how to stop. They never had limits because most of the enemies they dealt with were just as faulty and stupid, if not less. Now that they have finally met the Batman and have pissed off the Assassin, it was about time they had a taste of their own medicine. The Assassin was going to make sure of that.

She walked up behind Batman, readying her knife.

When the men noticed her, they began to laugh, "Decided to finally come and join the party now that you have your little protector here to save your ass?"

Clenching her jaw, she furrowed her brows. She wasn't fond of being rescued, but when it needed to be done, then it needed to be done. She would much rather do the rescuing than be reminded that she had needed help. Coming down to her being weak enough to need help from someone other than herself pissed her off. To rely on help or to depend on a savior wasn't safe like depending on only yourself and trusting only yourself was. Not to mention, one will be very let down when it came to being left behind because you had expected your so-called friends would help you. Being in the business-that is, a criminal for lack of other words-you could only depend on yourself. If the police caught you, you would be left behind and should not expect in the slightest bit that any of your criminal friends would help you. If you are on a mission to rob a bank and somehow you were shot down, what is expected is to be left there to bleed out unless the police decided to take you to a hospital. Though Assassin never left anyone behind, she was constantly left.

Not too long after rescuing the Joker's goons, they were in heap of trouble because Sid thought it a brilliant idea to steal more money from Kane's apartment. When Kane had reentered his home, he began shooting in all directions, scaring everyone into a frenzy. Assassin had been shot in the leg, unable to get up with falling to the ground again. She looked about for help, but everyone just kept leaving without second thought.

She finally crawled out into the hallway when Kane and his groupies were busy fighting the rest of the men off. She sat against the wall next to his door for quite some time, grateful he never bothered to peer into the hallway for stray goons.

Instead of going to a hospital like most citizens do, she dug into her skin with a knife and pulled out the bullet herself, stitching up the hole on her thigh after. Ever since that day, she had strategically kept a needle and thread in her inside pocket of her leather jacket so she wouldn't have to break into a house to steal it.

Approaching the men, the Assassin was ready to lurch into action, but she was stopped.

"I think you should leave before I have to take unnecessary measures," the Batman warned.

Kane came up casually to the four with the little guy wobbling beside him. Their expressions looked like ones of the devil's spawn.

The lead man shook his head, tsk-ing between his gritted teeth. It was very hidden, but the Assassin could see a slight wave of annoyance and terror wash over him at the presence of the Batman. It was obvious this wasn't the first encounter he had with him.

"I thought you would never go so low as to associate yourself with the Batman. What kind of criminal are you, Assassin? Not a very good one if you need the Bat to help you. How long have you two been partners?" he asked in a low, sort of seductive voice.

Assassin scoffed, "I'm not with this big black behemoth."

"Enough with the small talk," her savior interrupted, "I have business to attend to with...Miss Assassin. I suggest you leave unless you want me to force you away."

Kane frowned at his orders, hating to be bossed around as if he was a follower rather than a leader. However, he was smart enough to know that he should leave and that there would be other times he would encounter the annoying female some other time. "Alright boys, let's go. Oh, and Batman," he turned to the man with the black armor, smirking, "Don't rough her up too much. Leave a piece for me, will ya?" With that, they were off.

The Assassin kept her glare on the leaving men, wishing she could feel their blood run through her fingers and the life in their eyes fade away.

The secret, the reason why she left was now revealed to the Batman...to Bruce Wayne, a former friend and lover whom she was attracted to. Though, she would never admit that to anyone. Especially Bruce.

She now forced herself to look into his eyes, which she saw were full of confusion, betrayal and a longing sadness. Deep in her heart, it did pain her to see him in a state, but she refused to acknowledge it fully and simply smiled, "It's nice to see you again, B, but I am on a tight schedule and should be on my way."

He stopped her. Not physically, but with his words, "You are careless, you know."

She gritted her teeth and turned around, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what I said. I never took you as someone who would side with the Joker; let alone release him from his confinement." Now she understood, partially, what he was talking about. But how did he know it was her who did it? Has he had a run-in with the Joker? Then again, even if the Joker told him everything, there wasn't any way that Bruce would automatically know it was her who had set him free. He didn't know about Assassin, he only knew _her._

"I never took you as someone who would rescue a criminal," she countered.

He smiled slightly, but it faded and he was wore a straight face just as he normally does when wearing the black bat suit. "I don't see you as a criminal."

"You should."

"You are the Assassin every policeman in Gotham is dying to see. You have killed over thirty people in the last three years, but most of them were scum living recklessly on the streets of the Narrows. Except for one: Donald L. Hanson. Why did you kill him? There was some sort of motive for each of the murders you've committed; the police may not know that, but I see it. What was your reason for Hanson's murder?"

She furrowed her brows at him, "There wasn't any reason. Was there a reason you killed Harvey Dent?"

That made him pause for a moment. He considered exactly what to say, but he didn't reply.

"Look, I have to go. I've gone long enough without sleep, so if you're going to take me into the police, will you do it already?

"I'm not going to take you in, but you should know that the security cameras show you releasing the Joker and prisoners on tape. You may look like you are just part of the rush when you came out of the cell hall, but you left quite a clear picture of your intentions on the other camera."

She frowned. How could she have been so stupid as to not remember the fact there were security cameras in every room and hallway in Arkham? The simple mishap could get her on the charts of Gotham's most wanted and she would have to be in constant hiding just like the Joker, which is far from what she wanted. She was quite content with having the police idiots think she was a man and have no clue as to what she looked like or how tall she was or what her motives were. With the tape being watched by policemen and who knows who else, it would be difficult to lead as normal a life as a criminal could live.

"What do you want for the tapes?"

"I'm not one for withholding evidence to crimes."

"Then take me back to your manor and I'll steal them," she smirked, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. "I find it funny how you are helping a criminal. It's really amusing, actually."

He frowned further, "Please, don't make me regret this." He took her waist and hoisted her onto the same rooftop he had gotten down from. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop was a rush, she admitted, but it was getting more and more uncomfortable as she continued to feel the heat from gloved hands on her thin scrubs.

Once they got to his residence-which was really a cave with a pretty waterfall hiding the entrance-he set her down. She had seen it all before. He showed it to her out of the trust he had grown for her. In a way she earned it, he said. When Bruce showed her who he was in the dead of night, in the times when citizens of Gotham were in trouble, she immediately broke it off, saying that she did not want to be with someone who was Batman, for she completely detested him in every way like some of the police force did. Although, none of that was true. Gotham needed a Batman and there wasn't anyone who could make a better vigilante than Bruce Wayne.

She looked around the bat-cave and felt bitter at the memories that it came with. In the middle of the small body of water was a platform used that rose once weight was pressed on it. There were many weapons along the rugged stone wall that hung by nails, which either Alfred, Bruce's butler, or Fox, Bruce's business manager and creator of everything the Batman equipped, helped set up.

Having someone like Fox to work for her, she wouldn't just be carrying around a kitchen knife. Nor would she find herself running away when situations got hard, but instead, face them head on.

Bruce walked away to take his bat-suit off to come back in more comfortable attire. Yes, she had seen him since their last conversation on TVs at the thrift stores or bars, but she had yet to see him in person since then. Now, looking at him once again, she wished she had never even stepped foot into the Narrows that night. She should have agreed to the Joker's so-called kind invitation to stay in his warehouse and continue his plan to wipe out the mob. If she had done so, she wouldn't have the inconvenient feelings that she had when they were together all those years ago.

"So that's why you left," he started, "You were a criminal in disguise and couldn't risk getting caught by the Batman?" His face was hard to read. It was simply indifferent, but his voice was rather cold.

"Precisely," she said, gritting her teeth and furrowing her brows, "Now, give me the damned tapes so I can leave."

"First, I'd like you to have an early breakfast with me. In exchange for the tapes, I want to know the whereabouts of the Joker."

Another sickly feeling rose in her heart. She rolled her eyes and smirked, keeping from showing any other emotions, "That's the reason you are so willing to give me the tapes, Bruce? I would have thought you were capable of getting the information by yourself."

"We all think one another capable of something, yet they turn out entirely different than when we've originally judged them."

"You have gotten smarter since I left, haven't you? Well, hand over the tapes and we can have a little chit-chat before the sun comes up."

His tone was now a harsh defiance, "I don't think so. You get the tapes after you tell me everything you know about the Joker."

"Everything? I thought you just wanted a location."

"Now I want everything you know."

She smirked, "We all want something, Bruce, but that doesn't mean we always get it. I'll tell you the location, but I have nothing else to offer. I just met the damned lunatic, what do you expect me to know other than how he says "uh" all the time as well as constantly emphasizes his words. It gets annoying after a while."

Bruce seemed to lighten at the little remark and laughed, "I agree."

"But I do give the guy a lot of credit," she sighed, "He doesn't have a weakness. You can't harm him physically enough to get anything out of him, there isn't a soul he cares about on this planet to hold ransom and demand he stops creating chaos and he appears to be without a name or trace to his origins. That is quite a complex criminal, but yet such a simple one, too. Maybe that is his weakness: the fact he doesn't have one."

"I don't see how that is a weakness." He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Then you are as blind as a bat, Mr. Wayne," she smiled. "Know that if I give you a location, I would be on the Joker's hit list and that doesn't make me so happy considering I actually would enjoy having a crazy-ass ally."

"I will make sure I have just discovered his location and simply leave you out of everything that involves me so there won't be any suspicion."

She nodded slowly, "I trust you will do that with your best effort... The Joker is hiding in a warehouse approximately three miles away from the city on the outskirts. There are a lot of boxes, junk and abandoned cars in the front of it and it's one hell of a rusty building, so you can't miss it."

He appeared satisfied as he opened a drawer in a file cabinet next to a desk in the far corner of the cave. There was a total of three tapes that he handed to her, which she accepted quickly. "Are you sure these are the only copies and that once destroyed, there won't be any trace that I stepped foot in Arkham?"

Bruce nodded, "I assure you, I've checked every other camera and there wasn't a single red-head in sight."

"Great. Goodbye, then." She began to saunter through the entrance, but he called out to her.

"Wait, is Cassidy your real name or is it Isabella as it said on the lab coat's nametag?" he asked.

She had used the name Isabella because that was on the nametag already given to her by Crane. Cassidy, however, she had been called ever since she had got into the bad business. Thankfully, she shed that name now that she was known as the Assassin to the cops and thankfully, that stuck hard with the criminals as well.

"Neither of those are my real name. You can simply call me A, Bruce. No need for birth names, right?" she smiled, and finally got out of there without another word.

Assassin gripped the tapes against her body with a fierce possessiveness. She needed to get rid of them as soon as possible and soon wasn't soon enough.

She made her way to Jonathan's house. He wasn't home and hadn't left behind a key under the placemat, so she was stuck spending a whole ten minutes picking at the lock with her knife. Once she got it open, she immediately lit the fireplace and threw the tapes in, watching them burn. The smell of plastic rose in the room, making the simple process of breathing a hassle. Hopefully, Jonathan won't be pissed when he walks into the stench-filled apartment.

Just as she had expected, the former doctor walked in, nose immediately wrinkling in disgust, "What is that smell-A? What do you think you're doing?"

"Burning hardcore evidence," she said as if she were proud of it. Though, after, she was quite bitter, "Where have you been? Out throwing dollar bills to strippers?"

He chuckled, "Only you would be thinking of doing such a thing. I had bigger business to attend to. In fact, I was just about to call you. I have a friend I want you to meet. I told him of your unmatched skills with a knife and couldn't resist but request that he see you."

"If this is a member of the mob, I-"

"No, it has nothing to do with the mob. Just take the time to meet them and if you don't like what they have to offer, then by all means decline it. I promised them I'd bring you immediately."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Jon. But, I guess I can see what they have to offer...did they tell you what it is?"

"No." After a moment, he then smirked, "But if they did, I highly believe they would change their offer once they see who you are."

"Let me guess. They think me a strong, brute man with an ugly face and over-sized biceps and some stupid, sad past that led me to be a corrupted killer?"

He threw his head back and laughed, "I do think that is who they are expecting to see, yes. So, let's go see what kind of reaction we can get out of them."

She nodded, "I suppose that in itself will be worth walking a few blocks."

* * *

A twenty minute walk is what it took before they finally stopped. Jonathan bent down to a sewer hole, pulled the lid aside and climbed down the later. The smell wasn't nearly as intrusive as the burning plastic of the videotapes, but it was a close second.

As she placed a hand on the first rod of the latter, she stopped, glancing down at Jon who was already at the base, waiting for her.

"Who did you say was this guy's name?" she asked.

"I didn't."

"Well, then say it," she said impatiently.

"Bane," he nearly snapped, "Now come on, I'm becoming impatient."

"On second thought, I don't think this is such a good idea." The thought of seeing him now seemed almost like a dream, like it wasn't real. She felt overwhelmed and suddenly afraid of seeing him again. What was she supposed to say? "Long time no see, Bane. How's it been going for you? Don't tell me you have a lover. How is Talia? Have you seen her? Last time I saw her, she was in tears over you. That girl has quite some admiration for you. So, how are you?" Yes, she could see herself rambling on and on without stop. It irritated her that just the thought of him could send chills down her spine, making her brain become blank.

"You've heard of how brutal he is? Well, don't worry. He doesn't exactly kill unless absolutely necessary as far as I know. Now, will you get your ass down here?"

"Brutal?" She laughed. The only time she had seen him even remotely brutal was when he was rescuing her and Talia from those perverted prisoners in the Pit of Hell. She couldn't imagine him being consistently barbaric as he was when he attacked them.

With great hesitance, she climbed down the latter. Crane was completely amused at how she was reacting. He didn't expect her to be so timid and unsure of herself as she was then. To tell the truth, he had never seen her that way until that moment. Although, he didn't understand why. It wasn't as if he would let her get killed, nor would she be stupid enough to provoke the ex-member of the League of Shadows. She would be fine, he knew, but he wasn't daring to reassure her because her skittishness could only last for so long.

The sewers were as anyone would expect: dark, smelly, and full of sewage. The tunnels were made of stone bricks perfectly lined but looked moldy and ready to crumble. As they continued deeper into the sewers, there were various paths they could take, but Jonathan knew which way to head and didn't bother with the other options. While he walked confidently, Assassin was close behind, trying to wrap her head around what was happening, but again, there was only blank thoughts with no meaning. Thankfully, she kept on a good poker face and found her heart rate to be slowing down once more.

Finally, they approached a circular archway with three men standing before it, armed with machine guns. They looked at Jonathan and then at Assassin. One of them raised a brow, "This is the big help you were talking about? Bane isn't going to be happy about this."

"I don't need to hear your opinion, especially when it wasn't asked for. Out of our way," he mumbled darkly.

The men gave heavy sighs before the one who had spoken opened the solid steel door for them. When it did open, what she saw before her was very unexpected despite the rumors she had heard of the mighty and brutal ex-member of the League of Shadows.


	4. Part One: Earth: Disappearances

**Note: I'm so sorry that it has been so long! I had lost inspiration, but I found it once more! I hope you enjoy :) I also read through all the previous chapters to find grammar mistakes. I hope I caught them all. If not, it'd be lovely if someone could let me know. And just an FYI: any italized words (for the most part other than emphasis in dialogue) are the main character's thoughts.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize from The Dark Knight Trilogy. And please forgive me if J. Crane is way out of character.**

**Special Note: Don't try to figure out every single scene to see what scene it matches with in any of the movies because I really do make most of it up. We are still pre-Dark Knight Rises at the moment, so until you hear about Bane and his little plane action (my favorite scene of the movie), not much of the Dark Knight Rises is truly in these first few chapters. Thank you.**

* * *

**Part One: Earth**

**Disappearances**

The room was just as dark and dingy with low cieling lamps, which didn't help the lack of light in the sewers. However, she was internally grateful that the stench was much less pronounced than it was on the other side of the steel doors. There were at least ten men standing around in a sort of oval-like shape, waiting for their guests to arrive. One man, the tallest and definitely the most built was standing with his arms crossed. He wore an odd sort of mask that had tenticle-like metal tubes laced over the mouth area of it. He was indeed an intimidating figure, looking as if he could crush anyone effortlessly with a single hand. He had to be at least two heads taller than her; she couldn't imagine how menacing he would look if she stood closer to him.

Beside her, Jonathan clearly appeared quite nervous. Droplets of sweat shined on his forehead, but he kept fairly composed as he walked towards the group of underlanders. To her, it would have been comically had it been anybody else. But Jon was her friend, so a small part of her feared for his safety. He was a fair judge at when to be afraid and when it wasn't necessary to be, and seeing that he was slightly timid now had her questioning whether it was smart to be doing this.

"Well, I see you have succeeded in fetching the Assassin for me before sunrise. Although, it is unexpected to see it being a female," said a sort of mechanical voice. In a way, it was distorted, but even so, she could still familiarize it as being her old friend from twelve years ago: Bane.

Her heart fluttered. Smiling was definitely an automaticed reaction; however, she managed to supress it. The thought of finally having a true friend made her more than excited, more than happy. She almost wanted to smack herself for her reaction. But who could blame her? It had been one too many years.

Looking around at all the men with weapons in their arms, she noticed they were truly different. Usually followers' faces were either worried, scared, pained, or all of the above, but most of them were confident and actually looked _content _being there. That was quite unusual, especially since they were following the man who has been tagged with all these ruthless rumors. She wasn't afraid. He was her friend. He wouldn't dare hurt her, she knew that well...but then again, it has been over ten years since she has seen him and his appearance is clearly nothing like the lean young man she knew in the prison, but instead, a largely built, beast of a man. If his outer self has changed so dramatically who's to say the inside hasn't as well?

"She is the best assassin Gotham has to offer. Those druggies? They were her victims. Those prostitutes? They were hers as well. She's quick and she gets the job done. Of course, she doesn't work for free and money isn't her...forte..." Jon began explaining.

She shook her head and patted his shoulder mockingly, "I think I can speak for myself, thank you."

Bane looked her up and down with a suspicious look. Then his expression change to more of an amused look, "Well, we can offer a place to stay. Protection as well. That is all I can offer you. But I trust you will make the right decision because you won't be doing so well if you decline."

She quircked an eyebrow. "What the hell do you mean by that?" Now she too crossed her arms; the corners of her leather jacket moving out a little from her hips. It was natural, her defense and guarded wall when someone made any implication she was weak and needed to be watched over. It made her feel like a child again...it made her think back to that man who had a huge part in who she was now and she reacted to situations. It was him. That man with the nasty teeth that made her scared to trust, scared to come too close to anyone, scared to be beaten and tortured the way he had done to her. She did her best to forget him. She was doing quite well, too.

"Are you willing to cooperate?" he asked, amused at her quick, defensive attitude. She had always shown signs of it in the past. He could see she hasn't changed...not entirely anyway.

She smiled. The smile was genuine. It wasn't a smirk, it wasn't full of conniving thoughts or devilish secrets. It was a happy one. A peaceful smile, which was soon exchanged for her guarded look when Jon nudged her. _Damn it all, _she snarled to herself. She knew she was almost an entirely different person around Bane. Her body was relaxed, her mind was at ease, she didn't have so many bricks piling high around her heart. She was happy. She noticed she had never bothered _thinking _about protecting herself. She felt she didn't have to around him. But it was different. The situation was different.

Most of the time, in The Pit of Hell, everyone left each other alone. Some had their groups and friends and even family, but for the most part, they stayed out of the way as long as everyone else did the same. However, there were followers who watched Bane and watched those who have just recently joined their cult. She has just joined and she was going to be watched whether she liked it or not... _Ha! Who am I kidding? They should be shaking in their combat boots. I'm a skilled assassin; not some whiney bimbo._

It was official. She should begin by keeping her walls up just like the time she had first met him. She couldn't risk being vulnerable. It would do no good. Besides, Bane had made no signs he recognized her, let alone cared to start where they had left off.

"What exactly am I supposed to be doing?" she asked, trying to sound confident. She could only prayed it worked.

"Crane says you had a strong bond with Bruce Wayne. I want you to rekindle that bond and plant bombs in his storage of armory. That should be a simple task for you." His voice didn't change from the way he spoke moments ago. Whether it was real or due to the contraption he wore, he showed no signs of emotion that he cared of the news about Bruce or not. No jealousy. No curiousity. Simply Business and she hated to admit that she wished for a different tone.

"I'm not sure I'm up for it," she stated in almost a hesitant voice. Yes, she owed Bruce nothing, but the man he was made her remember that any harm towards him wasn't deserved. She had already been stupid enough to do what she did a few years prior to their recent encounter, so she wasn't going to do something that would make him hate her more than he already does.

He chuckled, "Feelings for the old crusador?"

Through gritted teeth, she spoke, "No. I owe him and doing what you ask of me would get me into a greater debt. _And I don't like debt_." Irritation and worry rose in her. Was he really going to ask her to do such a thing? That didn't seem like him at all. Then again, it wasn't like he was asking her to kill anyone. He always tried to steer her away from those thoughts, those actions. She spoke again, "What will this gain you? What is your plan for planting bombs in his playroom?"

"To get his weapons and machinary, of course. If you're done beating around the bush, I would appreciate an answer so my men and I can carry on about our business. We only have so much time on our hands."

In other words, he didn't want to speak to her any longer. He wanted to get away from her. He wanted assurance that his dirty work can be done by her without any problems.

"Yes, I will plant your bombs, but I don't need a place to stay and I certainly don't need protection. Just know that you owe me in the future and I expect that when I ask for it, you will pay it upfront, then and there." Confidence radiated off of her body as she bravely walked out of the door and through the sewer tunnels. Jon fleed from the room after apologizing, explaining she wasn't always a happy person and tried catching up to her. In truth, she was heart broken. That wasn't how she pictured it. That wasn't the scenario that she had in mind at all. He didn't look happy to see her. It didn't even look like he bothered to recognize her.

She was ignorant, naive, and stupid. She should have known what was to come. She shouldn't have made those assumptions. And everyone knows what they say about those who assume, but this time, she only made an ass out of herself in her own eyes.

As she climbed the ladder up to Gotham's surface in silence, a tear slid down her cheek.

* * *

She was good... No, she was skilled.

Her eyes were not red or puffy, she managed to keep in the water that fought to fall from her eyes, and Jon didn't expect a single thing. She fooled a Dr.

Yes, skilled she was.

"That was smart," he smirked, "To forget his offer and make him owe a debt. Now, he owes you anything you want. Whatever you wish. That guy is dangerous, though, so be careful about working with him. By the way...I couldn't help but notice a sort of...sparkle in your eyes when you saw him-"

"Go any further and you will no longer have a place to live nor will your brain work properly to do any more experiments if you so much as even hint on that subject anymore. You saw nothing. Leave it at that."

Jonathon started chuckling, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say-"

In one fluid motion she took out her knife, pinned him against a brick building and held the object at his throat, "Now's not a good time to piss me off, Crane, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut. Got it?"

When she used his last name, he knew she meant business. He raised his hands in defeat, "Alright, alright. Geesh. I was only messing with you, A. No need to go psycho-assassin on me."

She continued to walk in front of him, not caring if he was following or not and she could just tell that he was smirking. In a way, she was happy for it. They resembled siblings. They fought, they were there for each other, they mocked one another in awkward situations such as what happened only moments ago. They looked out for each other. It was almost like an unspoken deal. When one was in trouble, the other would come (most of the time) and the same was done for the other in return. All criminals had to have back-up. Even the Joker... Then again, who had his back?

That gave her a reminder that she had unfinished duties with the clownfaced lunatic; not that she truly had needed him in the end. Jonathon would have led her straight to Bane anyway. But it was too late to turn back now. That silly teen had revealed his whereabouts and she knew that if she backed out, the Joker would definitely not take it lightly. Better she kept him as an ally than an enemy. Enemies. Those were the last things she needed to deal with. She already had four. Though they weren't too much of a threat, none at all meant not having to worry. Having them was an inconvenience.

She had yet another duty: placing bombs in Bruce Wayne's Enterprises. And that potentially would create Batman as her enemy. Then again, he was so insistant upon how she was "good" and he seemed to try hard to be her friend. Maybe Bruce already had the Joker and she wouldn't need to worry about helping him. If only.

The two finally walked into Jonathon's apartment. Sighing, she decided to forget about everything until she finally waking up once more.

In the morning, the sun was its highest in the sky, showing the time to be approximately noon. Breakfast passed and lunch sounded very appealing to A at that moment. Her stomach let out an upset noise, causing a certain figure under blue sheets to chuckle.

Jonathon rose from his bed and peered at the Assassin who sat upright on the floor, "Hungry?"

"No," she said with thick sarcasm, "I'm so full, I think I will die if I eat another bite of food."

Huffing, he got out of the bed shirtless with nothing but thin-clothed, blue boxers on. Assassin groaned, slamming the back of her head onto her pillow and covering her eyes with her blanket, though, not for her friend's almost-nakedness. She thought nothing of it. What made her groan was the thought of the upcoming and potentially chaotic events that would happen. Not to mention the trouble she might make. Was she really going to go through with what the Joker wants? That wasn't such a big deal...she wanted more than anything for the mob to just be wiped out. No, the Joker wouldn't be much of an issue. If he found out that she ratted him out to Batman, then maybe; however, there was a bigger problem. Bane.

Yes, she could mope all day about how he didn't seem to recognize her or miss her from the long, excruciating years of no contact, but again, there was an even bigger problem. Could she go behind Batman's-Bruce Wayne's back and simply plant bombs in his room of weaponry, potentially hurting him or any other innocent person in the range of explosion? That was definitely not the way she necessarily liked to go about things...

Finally rising from her comfortable bed on the floor, she decided to take things one step at a time. First things first, she would deal with the Joker and the raging, moronic mob.

"How would you like to help me wipe out the mob?" she asked, smirking.

"Why are you bothering to do that?"

She sighed, not wanting to go further into detail. She was hoping for a simple yes or no. "I owe someone."

Jonathon rolled his eyes, "The Joker? I wouldn't think you would get yourself into his debt. I mean, it's one thing to owe _Batman, _but to owe that _insane lunatic who has no weaknesses whatsoever?_ You really are changing things up, aren't you?" He chuckled, knowing full well that he was irritating and mocking her. "Alright, I'll help you," he sighed half-heartedly.

Ignoring him, she walked out the door and headed for the Joker's whereabouts. Then again, he might not even be there due to the Batman chasing him out. She laughed to herself at the thought.

Jonathon followed her out, not questioning exactly where the nut was located and whether he was truly wanted to tag along in this mob business. He wasn't fearful, however, and not only because he could take care of himself, but anyone trying to hurt him would get A mad and she didn't take harm to him lightly. He recalled the last time Batman simply tried taking him to Arkham Asylum. Assassin totally beat his rear as he made a run for it. The fury in her eyes was truly priceless and not to mention scary. Jonathon was smug knowing that she wouldn't let anything happen to him. It was like his own personal bodyguard and right-hand man who could get him out of trouble. And now, it was time to return the favor by helpng her out with the luny.

The warehouse they came to looked just as abandoned as any old worn barn or building out in the country. There wasn't anything that looked used recently; not a person or living thing in site. What a clever spot for a crazed criminal.

"I could be mistaken," Jonathon began, "but I don't believe anyone resides here... What do you think?"

_That damned smartass tone, _she thought irritatedly.

Furrowing her brows, she stepped inside the narrow, white door and into the building. Some insignificant pieces of furniture were left behind, but all the papers, weapons, and articles of clothing were missing. So, the Batman heeded to her information quickly, wasting no time at all. Well, this was a large problem...very large. She took a milisecond to pray that the Joker wouldn't pinpoint her as the accomplice to the location of his whereabouts.

"So, genius, what do we do now?"

"Shut up," she hissed, trying to figure out whether all of this would be worth going to the Batman. Then again...she could always take on the mob one by one on her own and then there wouldn't be any debt owed to the Joker...and he wouldn't have to lift a finger, which was more than they both bargained for. "It looks like we are on our own, Jonny."

He cocked a brow, "Are you telling me that we are going to take out _the entire mob _by _ourselves_? Yes, love, you are quite the genius, I must say."

Suddenly, there was a loud whooshing sound from outside and a loud thump slamming onto the concrete parking lot. Assassin quickly drew out her knife and a small handgun, ready for battle. Before either Jon or Assassin could peer outside to see who it was, the figure came in, large and very, very black.

Batman.

"Why are you back here? Did you miss a few goons?" she asked haughtily.

The Batman's unnaturally low voice spoke out, "No, I was hoping the Joker would be here as you said."

"You gave this over-sized mammal the location of the Joker? You no longer deserve the name genius." Though at first he wasn't so afraid to meet the Joker, he was now worried about what the Batman was going to do. Yes, A was a skilled killer (hence her name) and she was very light and quick, but ol' Batty was just as skilled...maybe even more-so than she.

Assassin was now just as fearful as Jonathon was, but for completely different reasons. Clearly, the Joker left knowing the Batman was hot on his trail, but considering the Batman hadn't even been to this warehouse until now, someone must have babbled to the Joker that she had leaked his location to his enemy. However, who would have been listening in to her and her ex-friend's conversation? The only people who knew about the batcave were herself, Alfred, Bruce's butler, and Fox. Well, it didn't matter who, the Joker found out and now she had a powerful enemy that would no doubt hunt her down to slaughter her in due time. Bane was right. She needed protection. _Damn it._

"It looks like the Joker found out you knew where he was hiding out, so he left. This place as been empty for a few hours it appears. Sorry to crush your dream of finding him. Well, Jon and I will be leaving, if you don't mind. We have important business to attend to." She turned to Jonathon, "Let's leave."

Batman took her wrist just as she was opening the door. "If you find the Joker, tell me where he's at."

Through gritted teeth, she said, "I don't owe you anything anymore." Although that was not entirely true, she did give him the information he asked for and he gave her the tapes. It appeared unfair, she knew and she hated it, but she was already in deep with the Joker and she hasn't even spoken to him since she told Batman. Then again, the Joker knew she told him, so what was the harm in telling the Batman again? Sighing, she gave in, "Alright, but after this, it will be you who owes me."

He nodded in understanding, "That is alright by me."

With that, Jonathon and Assassin left the Batman to see if he could find any traces of the Joker in the warehouse. She knew he wouldn't find anything because the criminal was great at cleaning up...for the most part...but she didn't bother tell him. Ties with "the other side" bothered her; not only because it made her look questionable to the criminals of Gotham, either. No, the bother was different than simply that. Though hating to admit it, she did care for him somewhat and being seen with her potentially made him a very large target for the criminal world. Heck, eventually she might piss off every villain in Gotham and the way to bring her down, in their opinion, might be to attack the Bat. Having his blood on her hands was the last thing she wanted. Not just for her emotional and moral sake, but Gotham really did need someone like Bruce Wayne, a billioinaire vigilante who does whatever he can to save the ruined city. Without him, this place would no doubt be a hell for all those who are kind.

* * *

The ballroom was beautiful for the anniversary party of Harvey Dent's death. The room was a glistening silver with bright, untainted white walls and crystal chandeliers so clear, it was like they weren't there at all, taking away the reflection of the lights shining on the glass. The tables matched perfectly to the silver tile floor and the chairs had white, plush cushions.

"Perfect indeed," she smiled to herself.

Suddenly, the grand double-doors opened wide as a man with a lean figure and dirty face walked in. The man wore combat boots, baggy pants and a faded leather jacket. He clearly hadn't shaved for a little while, for stubble grew at least half an inch. He definitely did not look the part to be in such a room as this and even for a moment, she was worried he would get something on the floor and ruin the beautiful picture that was before her.

"Barsad," she said in a thickly pleasant manor, "What news of Bane do you bring me? Is everything going as planned?"

He smirked, "Almost. Bane and a couple other followers are planning to purposelly get caught by a CIA Op. Then, we will conduct a blood transfusion between Dr. Pavil who will aboard the plane and an insignificant other to make everyone believe he is dead. With Bane, the plan is fairly fool-proof."

She quirked a brow, "Fairly? Are we doubting Gotham's Reckoning already?"

Barsad let out an irritated sigh. One always had to be cautious of what he or she said when being the follower of an ex-member of the League of Shadows. "You know exactly what I meant, Talia. The plan is fool proof. But, giving you the layout of the plan wasn't why I came here. Bane recruited another."

"He recruits all the time, Barsad, if you are done beating around the bush and getting straight to the point of why you are here, I would enjoy you saying what you need to say so I can begin setting up for next week's party," she said slightly annoyed. She was talented at keeping a smile. Frowning wasn't her forte, but when she was busy with important doings and little time to do it, she had to rush the insignificant others in order to get back on track.

"This new recruit wasn't the typical male. She was a female and appearantly a very good assassin."

This was only slightly troubling. Yes, Bane only collected faithful, male followers, and not once has he mentioned any female to be useful. But then again, whatever needed to be done, Bane would most certainly do. Talia was still lacking to see any significance in this matter. "And Bane finds her useful, so he collects her for her talents, that isn't out of the ordinary, Barsad; you are wasting precious time. If you'll excuse me."

As she turned around, he still continued to explain, "Bane offered her a place to stay since she agreed to doing something for him, but she declined."

_Now we are getting somewhere, _Talia thought, curiosity finally rising. She walked back to him, face-to-face to hear more. "Go on."

"She said she didn't need a place to stay or any protection that Bane offered her. He offered her protection, Talia. Usually if one declines, they are killed and Bane doesn't just simply say 'I will offer you protection' to just anyone. He hasn't done that for a single soul since I have been a follower. After the meeting of this assassin's recruiting, she up and leaves and Bane turns to me to ask if I would follow her and make sure she does what she is supposed to and that no harm comes to her-that I should shoot anyone threatening her."

Talia wasn't too thrilled with this. "And why aren't you following his orders?"

"She left for the outskirts of Gotham. I'm sure no harm will come to her there. Besides, she is a skilled assassin and has a male companion along with her. To be precise, the man who suggested her to Bane: Jonathon Crane. If it wasn't for him, Bane probablly would have never recruited her.

She gritted her teeth, but managed to plaster a smile on her face, "Then do me a favor without mentioning this to Bane, okay?" He nodded. "Keep track of her and tell me every little detail and take a photo of her. I need one." She walked over to her purse and gave him a small camera made for placing on the body to keep it concealed. "In fact, even a video of her doing anything remotely suspicious would be nice."

Barsad took the small, circular camera. "Alright...but do you think that..." he trailed off.

"Do I think what, Barsad?"

"Maybe Bane has a...special interest in her. If you would have seen his face when she declined his offer, or rather, offers...it wasn't of anger at all like I was expecting. She was clearly oblivious to it. She was all defensive like he told her she couldn't handle being on her own, like we told her she had to have a babysitter in order to actually thrive in Gotham." Barsad was genuinly confused. There wasn't any one of the followers he could go to. He could, but not only would they say he was overthinking things and that there wasn't any way Bane thought much of Assassin, but they have little knowledge about Bane. Especially compared to Talia who has known him her entire life._ Talia could potentially be the Encycopedia of Bane, _Barsad mused.

"What are you implying, Oh-So-Faithful-Follower-of-Bane?" Her irritation was seeping thickly with every word she spoke now.

"Well, maybe Bane...nevermind. I'll get those photos to you by tomorrow morning. It shouldn't be too hard. She isn't exactly hard to find once you've spotted her. Her haircolor does help a lot, though."

"Haircolor?"

He nodded; "Her hair is a very viberant red. You know, not like those redheaded people that should actually be considered orangehaired people, I'm talking flawless skin, no freckles and very, very bright red hair."

"Hmm," she said sassily, "You're observant for a male. Well, go then. Not only are you now wasting my time, but your wasting your own as well."

Barsad walked out of the ballroom without another word. He wasn't going crazy. He had never, ever seen Bane the way he was when she left. He hid it well, however. If it wasn't for the fact that Barsad was standing right next to him and could clearly see the pain in his eyes, he would've never known. He had to agree with Bane; that girl was something. Maybe that something was dangerous, but in the least, she was something different than anyone he had ever met. Including Talia. Talia was another thing as well. The look on _her _face when he mentioned the Assassin's haircolor was clearly anger and maybe even worry.

And never in Barsad's life would he have thought that Bane and Talia would feel anything but loathing to Gotham City and the enpowering feel of having the people of Gotham in the palm of their hands.

* * *

"How do you suggest we find him?" Jonathon asked. His tone was became annoying hours ago. At this point, there wasn't a single part of her that felt the need to attack him. That feeling passed and how she was used to it. Clearly, that was a good thing. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was no longer on the list of things to worry about. Right now, all she needed to fuss over was where the hell the stupid lunatic was.

"I don't have the slightest idea. My bets are that he can't stay away from the limelight for long anyway. We just need to wait."

They had already began walking back to Jonathon's apartment. It was going to be evening soon and she hated how the day by went so quickly due to waking up so late. Less time equals more stress. More so than usual because she was stupid enough to give away the location of one of the most dangerous criminals in Gotham to the Batman. Yes, low-class criminal she was.

He faked a yawn. "Or we could take out the mob by ourselves."

She scoffed, "You're an idiot. I never once said that we should do that, Jonathon. I simply said that we were on our own."

"Not in my head. You completely and entirely implied it, and honestly, I think it's a great idea. You still don't deserve the name genius...but we can take those nut jobs out easily. We just need to build a bomb and I know exactly the guy who can make it."

"I better not hear you suggest that we go back down in those sewers and ask...Bane to make us a bomb." For a second, she hesitated to say his name. It felt foreign, no longer holding warmth like it used to. It merely held an emptiness that felt never-ending. Her heart began to sink in her chest the more she remembered the Pit of Hell. As it turns out, it no longer seemed like it really had been Hell to her anymore.

"Well, of course. There isn't a person better at making bombs than Bane and his little minions. On the plus side, he seems to like you and guess what? He _does_ owe you for planting those other bombs for him. I think him helping us deal with the mob is the perfect payment."

"No. Who says I don't know how to make bombs?" she questioned with confidence. Of course, she didn't really know how to make them. She wouldn't know where to begin, but she was not going to waste that debt just so she could erase her debt that she owed to an entirely different criminal. Not only that, but confronting Bane again was the last thing on her mind.

Did he really forget her?

* * *

**A/N: Again, so sorry that this took forever! Finals, life and you know the whole bunch really gets me. Besides, I'm terrible at commitment, but the next chapter should come sooner than this came depending on when I go on Christmas vacation. Comments DO help, you know :)**

**Is this even worth continuing?**


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